Burn in Hail(12)

     



 

"That's a type of murder," he explained. "If those patients weren't able  to get help, they'd live a painful life however long they had left to  live it."

I nodded, understanding where he was coming from.

"Any other examples?"

He had me curious.

He laid his arguments out well, and had backup and proof for everything  he gave me. It was an amazing thing to have a man that could verbally  spar with me.

"Well, say that you were young … a kid," he said. "Say that you walked in on your sister being raped."

My stomach clenched.

I knew where he was going with this, and the anger at what Tate had to  go through as a young child, and was then expected to live with it, was a  harsh reality that I'd never been able to see past.

I hated Tate's mother. I hated my father for not doing anything about  what had happened to Tate's sister, Alyssa. I hated the town for not  forcing the police force to follow through.

Alyssa hadn't been anywhere near our age. She'd been in high school when  her boyfriend of six months had gotten tired of waiting, and had  decided that it was time for Alyssa to give up what she'd been  flaunting.

Alyssa hadn't been flaunting anything. Alyssa had been a normal teenage girl.

However, Alyssa's boyfriend had decided that no didn't mean no, and  proceeded to rape her in her bedroom. All the while, Alyssa's  brother-Tate-had been in the next room.

Tate, at age eight, had gotten hungry and went to find his sister to see  if she would cook for him. What he'd found when he'd come into the room  was a sobbing Alyssa, and a still in the process of raping her,  boyfriend.

Tate had tried to intervene, not quite understanding the repercussions  of what he saw, but he'd tried to help anyway. He'd gotten a fist to the  face for his trouble, and had passed out.

Once Alyssa's boyfriend had stopped, he'd left. Alyssa had then had to take not just herself, but her brother, to the hospital.

Then, two months later, she found out that she was pregnant with his kid.

It was rumored that Alyssa had then tried to kill herself, but nobody besides Tate and maybe his mother knew the truth.

"Walked into that room, and what I saw will forever haunt my brain," he  said. "My eight-year-old self was able to twist what I did see, and now  every time I get into a similar situation that reminds me of it I black  out. My rage is over the top, and off the charts. I can't seem to  control anything-not even my mouth. But here's where I think murder can  be good in certain situations."

I paused and waited for what he'd say next. Would it make me smile?  Would I agree with him? Would it be morally and ethically wrong, and  would I have to delve into this further?

As all of these questions filtered through my brain, I was left blinking stupidly when he said what he did next.

"I witnessed my sister try to kill herself four times."

My eyes closed, and my pen stopped doodling on my paper.

"The second time, I stopped her, she screamed at me. She told me that I was selfish."

I bit my lip.

This man wasn't selfish.

"The fourth time, she was days away from having her baby." He paused.  "And that was the day, at the age of nine years old, that I knew that  sometimes killing someone was okay-sometimes this Earth can't handle  them-can't make them whole again. Sometimes, it's the most humane thing  to do, let them go."

"I've wanted to kill Duncan Trey every day for the last twenty plus  years." He paused. "He's the reason I have never met my nephew. He's the  reason my sister refuses to have anything to do with me. He's the  reason that I am the way I am. He's the reason that I can't fuckin'  sleep at night." He looked at me sharply. "I've witnessed seven girls  get raped, as well as two men."

My belly churned.

"Most of those I saw while I was overseas in the military," he added.  "And most of them were men doing that to their wives-though it's okay  over there. The woman is supposed to do what the man says she has to do.  If she doesn't, she can be punished for her sins."

I bit my lip, trying hard not to interrupt him. This was the most I'd ever gotten out of him in one session.

"The good thing, though, was that all of those men were living on  borrowed time. One by one, they all went down by either my hand, or  somebody else's hand, until there was only one left-my sister's rapist."

"You won't … "

His smile was fierce. "I won't. But I want to."         

     



 

I licked my dry lips. This was toeing the line for me … I was at a point where I needed to make a decision.

I needed to either allow this one to go untouched, call his probation  office, and tell them that this man wasn't going to be fixed in just  twenty something sessions. Or, I needed to let it go.

"Heavy thoughts?" he teased.

I shrugged.

"What I'm thinking is that you're a very strong man."

He laughed and looked away, and I chose that moment to stand up and walk to my desk where a Keurig was sitting.

"Coffee?"

He grinned but shook his head. "Nah, I'm good. Thank you, though."

I half-heartedly smiled at him and started myself a cup, waiting for the man to say he was through with this session.

When he didn't, however, I realized that he didn't plan on going anywhere.

He was giving me the answers today, because something had changed.

"Tate?"

He'd never once taken his eyes off of me.

"Yeah?"

His voice was rough, and for the first time today, I took everything about him in.

"Tate … "

"Hennessy."

I took a step forward.

"Are you even a little bit apologetic?" I asked, trying to keep myself from taking that next step.

He shook his head so slowly that it was almost impossible to misunderstand.

"Prison sucked ass," he admitted. "However, that little girl is fifteen  now, has a boyfriend, and is alive right now because of me."

I bit my lip.

"Probably should be sorry."

I nodded.

"But I'm not."

No, I could see that he wasn't.

"As the person in charge of your case, and the anger management issues, I  should be encouraging you to never think the way you're thinking right  now."

He shrugged.

"But … "

"But," I exhaled slowly. "But I'm not going to. There's no reason to."

"Why is that?"

"Because I can't say I don't agree with you," I answered. "I would've probably done the same thing, being in your position."

His lips tipped up.

"I'd hope that if you were ever put into a situation like that, that you  wouldn't do anything as stupid as I did," he drawled. "Otherwise you  might get that pretty little head hurt."

He thought my head was pretty?

"Pretty little head?"

His lips twitched.

"And that cute fat ass."

My mouth fell open.

"It's not fat."

His eyes went to my hips.

"No, you're not fat. Your ass though? It's not fat, fat. But it's fat.  Round. I bet it would take my hips pounding against it like a pro." He  paused. "Would like to see it flaming red from my hand smacking it,  too."

I swallowed.

That was when I noticed that I wasn't across the room from him anymore,  but standing near the edge of the couch-only a scant few feet away from  him.

I swallowed and started to step back, but his hand reached out and snagged my wrist, halting my backward retreat.

"You know something, Ms. Hanes?"

I swallowed again, and shook my head.

The feel of his long, strong fingers wrapped around my delicate wrist was my undoing.

I never knew that a touch on my wrist could feel like an electrode was  connected straight to my clit, but damned if I wasn't pressing my thighs  together to alleviate the ache.

His eyes missed nothing.

"What do I know?" I whispered hoarsely.

"I know that this thing between me and you will never work."

I frowned, anger that he'd write us off before we even started simmering in my belly.

Before we'd even started? What the hell, Hennessy?

"Wanna know why I know that?"

I swallowed and nodded.

"It's not what you think," he said.

I cleared my throat.

"What do I think?"

"You're thinking that this is a patient doctor line that shouldn't be crossed."

I nodded faintly. It was. Very much so.

"But that's not what'll ruin us."

"What will ruin us?" I questioned.

He grinned. "We will."

I blinked.

"What?"

"You're the preacher's daughter. I'm the son of the town whore."

I bit my lip.

He was speaking the truth.

Everyone knew who I was, and everyone knew who he was. Neither of us denied that fact.

"You're all sunshine and giggling unicorns. A doctor that the whole  entire fucking town can't help but love, and I'm the dark, dangerous man  that's been to prison. That has killed someone. Nobody but my own crew  likes me. You're sweet honey, and I'm gasoline. Highly flammable and  something that everyone is wary of."         

     



 

"I like the smell of gasoline," I blurted.